


Fatal Flaw

by vials



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11445261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials
Summary: Silva is very good at tying up loose ends, but unfortunately for Séverine, her talents in that area are severely lacking.





	Fatal Flaw

Sometimes Silva wondered if this was what being half of a married couple on the brink of divorce felt like. The thought gave him much amusement, mainly because as a young man he had wholeheartedly rejected the idea of marriage, believing that that much, at least, would save him from heartbreak. How wrong he had been! Now he was older and wiser, he was fully aware of the fact that love had a strange way of sneaking up on a person, and marriage (or lack thereof) wouldn’t change that.

It was all a little melodramatic, considering he wasn’t _in love_ with Séverine. She was a nice enough girl, pretty, a quick learner, and a steady hand. All things that Silva could respect. In fact, there had been a time where he had loved her, even if it hadn’t been in any sort of conventional sense. But there had been a time where they had enjoyed one another’s company, and their conversations had been extended and relaxed, and they had shared the spark of something.

Silva had learned the hard way to let things go as soon as they were no longer useful. Perhaps it bothered Séverine, the way they hardly saw one another anymore; perhaps it bothered her that Silva treated her like another one of his men, sending her out on errands and jobs, tailor-made to fit her best qualities, her natural talents. If she was bothered by it she did him proud by not showing it during the task at hand, because her obedience was still impeccable and she always brought home good results. Maybe Silva could even say that her minders were unnecessary, but he supposed one must start as one meant to go on. Allowing someone an inch of freedom would mean they would take a mile, and so close to his endgame, Silva had no room for error. Especially not the kind that would come from another betrayal.

He had seen the way she looked at him, and by now enough people had tried to betray him for him to recognise the signs. She had grown from avoidant to angry, from meek to confident, even if her confidence was misplaced. She had a plan, and whatever it was, Silva was sure she thought it was a good one. Never mind the fact that it would be useless, never mind the fact that she would almost certainly end up dead – that wasn’t Silva’s problem to worry about. If the poor girl wanted to try her hand at revenge Silva would allow her the freedom to do that. It was her right, after all, though he struggled to work out why she would want such a thing from him. After all, hadn’t he rescued her? Hadn’t he taken her from an awful situation, given her everything she wanted, built her up into the kind of person who needn’t be afraid of anything if she only obeyed the rules?

Silva let out a snort of laughter. He was starting to sound like his dear mother. Alright, maybe Séverine had a point, after all. Still, he hadn’t thrown her to the wolves yet, which was more than could be said for dear old Olivia. 

Séverine liked to ignore him, which was fine by Silva, considering he had plenty of other things to be focusing his energy on. Sometimes he would entertain himself with conversation with her, marvelling at all the different techniques she employed to try and get away from him, or prove to herself that she still stood a chance against him, or – Silva’s personal favourite – that she was no longer in love with him. Unfortunately for her it was still abundantly clear that whatever hatred she might feel for him (and she _did_ feel hatred for him, that much was obvious) she still couldn’t quite disconnect herself from the fact that she had loved him once and still did now. In his rare and more generous moments Silva could almost feel sorry for her. It wasn’t an easy burden to carry, especially not while so young.

It was odd to find her here now, standing on the roof and overlooking the crumbling remains of the island around them. He remembered when she had come up here all those years ago, when she had been even younger and even more terrified, and the roof seemed to be the only place she felt comfortable in her own skin. Silva thought it had been something to do with the fact that no eyes were on her up on the roof; she had been very self-conscious in those days, avoiding any and all glances. Silva was rather proud of the fact that under his guidance she had become the sort of person who wouldn’t flinch under a look, no matter how terrible it was. He wondered if she would ever use such tricks on him. He wondered if she would get the chance. 

“Old habits?” he asked, moving up beside her and leaning on the wall. Five floors below them, the cracked courtyard began to grow dark as dusk settled in.

“The air is fresher up here,” Séverine said. “I can’t stand all the dust at ground level.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Silva replied. He was quite fond of the island and, truth be told, Séverine’s relatively new habit of nitpicking things about it was beginning to grate on him. “Perhaps you have grown too sensitive. Or perhaps you have never liked it here and you have been lying to me the whole time? Who can tell.”

“I just said it was dusty,” Séverine said, sighing. “I hope you haven’t come up here to pick a fight with me, Raoul. I don’t have the energy.”

“When have I ever picked a fight with you?” Silva asked pleasantly, and he saw her frown deepen as she realised that he had a point. It was rare that the two of them actually argued, because Séverine wasn’t nearly idiotic enough to think that constantly fighting with him was a good idea, but whenever they did clash Silva knew she would have to admit that she was always the one getting heated, her voice barely able to contain itself to a normal level, her fists clenched in the hope he wouldn’t see her trembling with anger. Silva, for his part, was immovable; calm and collected and perfectly pleasant, and both of them knew that it wasn’t out of patience or understanding.

“I hate how you do that,” Séverine said. She didn’t quite say the words without thinking; Silva heard the hesitation in her voice before she decided to commit. He could appreciate her honesty. “You always do that. You’re always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

Silva smiled, leaning out a little further as though to tempt Séverine into thinking about pushing him. He settled his elbows on the concrete and looked at her, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly so that they were almost suggestive, as though letting her know he knew that was what she was thinking.

“I am,” he said, after a beat of silence. Séverine frowned, ever so slightly, and moved her gaze away to some middle distance in front of her.

“So why bother?” she asked. “Why bother with any of this? I’m sure you probably know more about the situation than I do.”

“What situation, dear?”

“Don’t try and trick me into confessing anything. I’m not a stupid little girl anymore.”

“No,” Silva said, sighing, in a sudden expression of mild annoyance. “You’re not.”

The breeze briefly picked up around them, bringing with it the smell of salt. Silva looked out over the buildings, noting their shadows getting longer, and pretended not to notice whenever he felt Séverine’s gaze flicker over to him again.

“I suppose you meant about how you’ve been acting?” he eventually asked. He felt her stiffen slightly at his side. “That you’ve been picking fights? Avoiding me? Practically _seething_? I must admit, I wasn’t aware that there was anything too complicated about that. You resent me. You might even hate me.” He paused, before glancing at her, smiling. “It happens.”

“You don’t sound very angry.”

“Why would I be angry? You think I’ve had no one hate me before? You think I’ve had no one be ungrateful? Please. I couldn’t care less. As I’ve said countless times before, you’re free to leave whenever you would like. Do you not believe I would let you go?”

“You would,” Séverine said, but she sounded only just on the right side of certain.

“So then it must be that you can’t leave.”

“Why can’t I leave?” she demanded, defensive. 

“I don’t know. You tell me. Why haven’t you?”

She was silent, which was an answer in itself. 

“Because I’m an idiot,” she said, after a very long pause. “It’s my fatal flaw. I don’t know when to quit.”

“No,” Silva said, pushing himself back off the wall and turning to look at her, the smile on his face enough to make her flinch back from him slightly. “Your fatal flaw is loving a man like me. It’ll get you killed someday, dear.”

She tensed again, her eyes flickering across his face, but he turned away before she could settle on anything. He left her on the roof in the fading light, no doubt to spend the evening wondering if it had been a threat, or simply a passing comment. Truth be told, Silva wasn’t entirely sure of the answer to that himself yet, but he supposed that was all part of the fun.


End file.
